


Love could be a small cafe away

by mae_linda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad French, Cheesy, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Food Sex, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae_linda/pseuds/mae_linda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Harry receives an unexpected gift from his lover. HP/PP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love could be a small cafe away

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008 (!) for hp_rarities. Expect cheesiness.

The cab door closes with a slam and Harry’s first attempt at the local name is met with a polite laugh.

“Tu es Anglais?” the taxi driver asks in an amused tone as he pulls from the curb with a sudden jolt that nauseatingly reminds Harry of the Knight Bus. Harry figures some of what his learned during their kinky “French maid” love sessions will finally be useful outside the bedroom. Then he feels the constriction in his trousers at the thought and thinks better of continuing on that line of thought. It’s enough that he recognizes “Anglais” to mean English, so he politely nods and gives a quick “Oui” in confirmation.

The man smirks at him in the mirror and Harry is forcibly reminded of Malfoy until the next question comes. 

“Vous allez où?” the enquiry, in a tone of polite professionalism throws Harry for a bit until he remembers what it might logically mean and recalls what the address on the note was. His answer when it comes is a bit clipped around the edges but clear enough that the driver immediately starts in, presumably, the direction of Brasserie La Coupole on Boulevard Montparnasse.

Once Harry is reasonably sure of the fact that they are traveling towards his destination he relaxes in his seat before his mind replays the last day’s events in his mind’s eye. He had woken up late on the anniversary of their wedding day to find that he was hugging a pillow instead of the warm body he had fallen asleep spooning the night before. Comfy but still grumpy to be missing his favorite snuggle partner Harry had rolled over, half ready to search for her. But when he had opened his eyes to see the full breakfast table on his nightstand, bearing his favorite breakfast treats, under a Stasis Charm, he suddenly remembered the date. Smiling he grabbed his glasses and called out for his lover, hoping to share the goodies, as well as a celebratory shag. He had placed the tray and removed the Charm before he realized no answer was forthcoming. Harry frowned down at the tray before he noticed the note, but opened it revealed not only the reason for his love’s absence but also what the little minx was up to.

You will find me at Brasserie La Coupole on Boulevard Montparnasse, I decided we need a little authentic French adventure for our anniversary. Won’t you join me, mon cherie?

 

He had grinned as he had banished the tray and had proved his eagerness by getting tangled in the bedclothes and falling flat on his arse, beside the bed. Chances are he would have a bruise there later, which his crafty Pansy was sure to notice. Thinking about his wife and lover of seven years Harry smiled dopily. All their friends had come to the agreement that she had been who had courted him, not the other way around. Harry fondly remembered those days, mostly the impromptu sex and the bantering, which had gradually led to tenderness and a possessive streak a mile wide. It seemed only natural that a bonding ceremony would be the conclusion of their love affair. A love affair that surpassed boundaries of all kinds: moral if that lady in the old clothes shop’s highly indignant reaction as they were sorting themselves out was any indication. Then political, as shagging on the Minister’s desk was any indication, as his secretary, Pansy seemed fascinated with that desk. And now, they were crossing the boundary to France. Harry liked his lips imaging what they could get up to here.

 

“Voila Monsieur.” The driver’s voice interrupted Harry’s musings, and after paying and a hasty “Merci” and “Au revoir” Harry stepped away from the taxi just in time to avoid being hit by it as it sped off. Blinking into the spring walk sunshine that was peeking through the green foliage above, Harry made his way toward the tables of the locale. Harry vaguely noticed were carefully arranged so that they all faced toward the sidewalk, probably for people watching. His attention however was caught by the nymph approaching the same Brasserie as he was. The slender figure of the woman was emphasized by the white dress she wore, simple yet very chic and hugging her every curve while the skirt flared out dramatically stopping just below here knees. Harry knew very well that body and was well aware his wife was gorgeous but she seemed amazing now.

Stalking over to where she had seated herself, Harry leaned how and whispered her name hotly in her ear. He was shocked speechless when she merely offered a polite “Bonjour Monsieur” even as her eyes twinkled. He had known she was fluent in French, but she also knew what hearing the language rolling off her tongue did to him. He was positively aching as she continued inviting him to sit and making idle small talk as she signaled for a waiter. Squirming in his seat, Harry’s Gryffindor mind shut down completely in the face of such a good opponent and his Slytherin one stood up and took notice. Pansy had taken great pains to teach him the language and he would do well now. After all he did have his beautiful French maiden to impress, whom his wife was making a good impression of being.

So at the waiterr’s quiet “Qu'est-ce que vous prenez?” Harry intoned with utter confidence “Je prends un café au lait and Mademoiselle un café simple” while his eyes never left her face, therefore catching the sparkle of pride in them. As they traded small bits of information, Harry’s eyes roaming her face and hands, he couldn’t help but admire her even more. She wore little to no makeup, unlike her usual, her nails were a very natural color and short, unusual as she preferred them to be any shade of pink and long. Her hair was gently framing her beloved face, free of any restriction and it made her seem more relaxed and happier somehow. It made Harry happy too and they talked for most of the hour in quiet tones as the city around them awoke to the new spring day. 

Harry was so relaxed that when, after settling the bill she asked him if he wanted to come to her place, in a soft tone of “Voules-vous . . .?” he almost believed he was going with a total stranger. Except he wasn’t and he could wait to see what his romantic wife of his had planed for them. As it turned out she was staying in a villa, one that had a quaint little park around it for privacy. At her bidding, Harry moved to the garden at the back of the villa, as she fetched lemonade for both of them. When she returned Harry grinningly offered her a seat on the swing he had amusing himself with before her return. She coyly accepted by asked for not too fast in a sweet murmur of purred words that made Hurry’s hands tingle. 

He gently pushed her, once, twice, but when she tilted her head back, hands around the cords that held up the swing, he couldn’t resist stealing a kiss. She laughed breathlessly and it encouraged Harry to become bolder. He stole more kisses that way before making his way in front of her. She had gained momentum now and even as she blushed, Harry could still see her exposed legs, as the wide skirt fluttered in the breeze. But when he noticed the lacy knickers it was too much and he caught her as she swung forwards, gathering her to his chest, as her legs found their way around his lips as they kissed ferociously. 

Harry could feel her body all but vibrating against his, as her hands found their home in his hair and tilted his head to the side for here to kiss gently before biting down, hard. Harry yelped but moaned in the next instant as she licked to soothe the hurt simultaneously grounding herself against him. Lifting her higher Harry moaned against the skin of her half exposed breast as he felt how wet she was. Growling softly he leaned down to look in her in the eye as he suggested she run, in a almost purely vibrated “Cours, ma petite.” His beauty all but flew inside the house and he allowed it, for five seconds before he was tearing after her, following her melodious laughter. 

It was a game but it felt oh so real, every single time they played it. The rooms would be a mess before Harry could finally corner her, and then Pansy would still fight, scratching and thrashing, it only stopped when he took her, hard against the wall or a sturdy-looking table or on the floor. Only then would she go soft and pliant in his arms, arching into each thrust and mewling in varying degrees of loudness. That first time, it wouldn’t take long. Between the adrenalin, the constant deep pounding and the attention o her clit Pansy would soon be screaming her release, bringing Harry with her over the edge as she clenched around him and dug her nails deep in his back. It happened now too, only this time Harry did not fall asleep. He gently pulled put before lifting her dozing form bridal style to the nearest bedroom. 

Clever minx that she is, she’d allowed herself to be caught right next to “their” bedroom, in fact the entire villa was probably rented just for them, but this one room was special. The Champagne and strawberries were a dead giveaway, as well as their favorite ribbons and something that Pansy had been meaning to try: bonbons aux Cognac. Of course you could find chocolates like that in England too, only these were handmade and with Cognac possibly older and finer than Harry could imagine. And he had an idea of where to eat it from. Laying his lover’s precious weight on the bed, Harry undressed her, leaving only the bra before he leaned back on the bed beside her. He observed her nude form before reaching over and tying her to the headboard with the ribbons. 

*****************************************************************************************

Slowly coming to full consciousness Pansy realized things might not be going as planned. Usually Harry passes out before comming that hard, and she had been ready to Levitate him to bed. Now it seemed that she would be the one tied up. She smiled slowly, eyelids flicking open slowly as she regarded Harry sensually through her lashes. He might think he was in control but she would prove he was not, not now anyway. After all if there was a kink Pansy knew about her beloved husband it would be his submissive side. It did not surface often but in a French context anything could happen, Harry was notorious for satisfying his “French maid”. 

Deciding to implement her ideas later, Pansy submitted to the delightful creativity her Harry had. She trembled and murmured countless “Oui” at him as he mapped out her body with reverence. He kept licking and spreading more crushed strawberries on her skin until she was sticky and nearly mindless with lust for this man. His sinful tongue traced the curve of her flat abdomen, the shape of her hips before he reached his goal. She screamed, wishing she could clutch his hair as he fucked her with fingers and tongue, sucking at her clit until she was finally lying messily, dragging ragged breaths as he smiled smugly at her.

Faster than she could even beg “J'ai besoin de mon ‘Arry ici”, showing her need for him by tilting her hips upward and spreading her legs to beg for his cock where it belonged, she felt being gently turned on her front and her rump raised. Arms now comfortably crossed above her on the pillow she felt deliciously exposed and vulnerable. She felt liquid being poured in the dip her back and she shivered at the coldness – the Champagne! - before she positively screamed as two ice-cubes were rubbed around her heated nipples. He could feel Harry slurping and licking at the bubbling liquid even as her nipples became almost painfully hard from the coldness and the tender touches in between.

She was no longer coherent, never mind French; she couldn’t remember her own name, when Harry very carefully prepared her before slipping a bonbon up her hole. It would have been disturbing, except Pansy was completely shameless now, wriggling and hissing at Harry to get on with it. Two chocolates eaten this way and Harry was finally releasing her bonds and pulling her back against his chest, to sit in his lap. Even for them, making love had never been so sexy, so unabashedly unhurried and for that treason all the more hot. Pumping inside her slick folds, she could keep Harry doing that forever, to feel him that close, body and soul, connected in the most primal way. 

Pansy let go when Harry laid back and made her arch like a cat as he stroked her to completion. She could feel Harry let go, and hoped this would be the time she would conceive. It was after all the second reason she had chosen Paris and not their home for their anniversary. The city of lovers has its own special brand of magic after all and it would mean she could give Harry what he craved. After that it took them a while to sort themselves out but finally they were curled up in the middle of the big bed. Harry curled around her and Pansy drifted to sleep thinking of the beautiful time they would have that night. 

That night, walking hand in hand, on one side with the river Seine, on the other the city which seemed bursting with life and love in the pale moonlight of a late April, they talked, in English and in French, Pansy teaching Harry new words as Harry kept inventing new ways to say “Je t’aime” with his expressive eyes and big, gentle hands, grateful it seemed for the love they shared and the promise of the new life they would love together.

FIN.


End file.
